


The Why Over the What

by jbsullivan17



Series: Challenging Myself [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, mention of overdose, mention of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-04-28 16:38:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14453391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbsullivan17/pseuds/jbsullivan17
Summary: Bellamy does something for Clarke that she wouldn’t do for herself. His friends get him thinking about why he’s doing it in the first place when they’re just friends.





	1. Bellamy - The Why

**Author's Note:**

> I was reading a book because I was having an anxiety attack and couldn’t write or do anything because it’s debilitating when it happens and so I picked up a small book off the coffee table (I wasn’t home) and I read the first 60 pages and this is what came out of that whole thing.

Bellamy came to the realization one day that his best friend had been there for him through everything. His mother died, she went to the funeral home to help him pick out a casket while holding him together. He graduated the same night Octavia wrapped their mother’s car around a tree, she drove him to the hospital while he squeezed her hand tight. He went to the University across town and a year later she joined him and two more years, O did too, she had sports scholarships instead of academics and the school told him they didn’t have the scholarship money to keep him there and she spent a week of sleepless nights researching grants and scholarships that would keep him in school so he could graduate. He got into the masters program a year later and she spent a semester abroad at some French renaissance art school that was strict and she couldn’t fuck around being a tourist like Bellamy pictured, but she always checked in with him every other day, flying home a day early when he called in tears about Octavia’s OD. He was there when he actually tried dating and Gina dumped him and wouldn’t tell him why; “if it’s not obvious to you already, you’re pretty damn dense, Bellamy!” The only time Gina actually yelled at him. Took him in when his landlord kicked him out with 24 hours notice so his niece could move into his apartment. So it’s all kind of been coming to a head when he realizes her twenty fifth birthday is right around the corner and he has absolutely nothing for her.

It’s not like they’re traditional gift givers either. Christmas they’d give each other shitty things from the dollar store that was doomed to break and be left on dressers and desks until they ultimately decided to do their late spring cleaning that just happened to be just after finals. His birthday she’d throw a book at him and say it made her think of him in passing with a shrug as she went to the fridge in hopes of there being day old takeout. He’d leave art supplies around her apartment if she mentioned she needed it or something he remembered her saying she wanted but could wait until the end of the school year, seven months away.

So when he hadn’t remembered her mention anything and he couldn’t think of anything she’d want aside from a tube of that iridescent paint—which he obviously was getting her too—this was what he thought of and if anything it could be her Christmas present too.

“What?” Lincoln asked when Bellamy brought it up to him at the bar at the end of September.

“You and Nyko have that gallery downtown, could she do a showcase or viewing or whatever it’s called?”

“Exhibit. Are you sure that’s a good idea? You can’t just spring that on someone. They need a collection, something that draws all the pieces together. A theme. From what I know about Clarke is that she does custom pieces that she sells on Etsy for whoever’s interested. Each piece is its own, you really think you can pull together a theme?”

“What she sells on Etsy and what she does for herself are different.”

“Oh?”

“She has portraits, people. You, O, Raven, Miller... everyone. She hides them in the back of her closet because she thinks they’re not good enough. They are.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“If she has one of all of us, she has one of you, right?”

“I... maybe? Anyway, could you do it? Could we open on her actual birthday?”

“I’ll talk to Nyko. Why are you doing this for her, Bellamy?”

“She’s done so much for me and she deserves this. She won’t do it for herself so I’ll do it for her.”

“That’s it?”

“Is there supposed to be more?”

Lincoln shrugged, bringing his beer bottle to his lips. “You tell me,” he said before taking a swig.

* * *

After he got the confirmation from Lincoln about having an exhibit of Clarke’s work, he brought some people in on it. First was Monty, refusing to let Jasper know anything because he’ll ruin the surprise before it’s anything more than an inkling of a possibility.

Monty grimaced when Bellamy asked him to make up programs for it. 

“Why isn’t Clarke asking me to make them? It’s her show.”

“I’m surprising her with it. It’s her birthday present.”

“Hence it being on her birthday. I don’t know, man. You know how Clarke is better than anyone. Do you really think this is a good idea?”

“She’s never going to do it for herself,” Bellamy said because he does know her better than anyone else.

“If that’s what she’s doing, then that’s what she wants.”

“Monty, please. She deserves better than selling her art on Etsy for two hundred. They’re worth ten times that.”

“So you’re doing this so she gets the recognition she never asked for?”

“I’m doing this because she deserves it.”

“Right,” Monty scoffed, turning back to his computer. “I’ll have it done.”

“Thanks.”

* * *

“Am I the last to know about your present to Griffin?” Miller grimaced, chugging his beer.

“Mmm pretty sure she still doesn’t know,” Bellamy smiled, getting the attention of the pretty bartender to order his own beer.

“Dude, seriously? Don’t you think it’s a little much?”

Bellamy shrugged. “It’s a big birthday.”

“You punched me twenty six times on my twenty fifth. Same with Murphy. You’re buying Clarke an exhibit space.”

“Discounted. Lincoln’s trying to get on my good side.”

“You _would_ ask him a favor and get a discount out of it.”

“It wasn’t the goal, I think he also knows that I’m working my ass off to get nowhere fast so...” Bellamy shrugged, not really knowing how to finish.

“So we’re just going to ignore the fact that you’re an ass to everyone but her?”

Bellamy grimaced, “I’m not an ass to you.”

“Yeah, dude, you are. It’s cool, I know you stress too much. Whatever you need me to do I’m down, she deserves recognition.”

Bellamy nodded in appreciation and changed the subject because Raven and Clarke walked in.

* * *

**_4 Years Ago:_ **

_"What do you want, Octavia?” he screamed at her, he found her stash for the third time and he’s done._

_“From you? Nothing! Just leave me alone!”_

_“If I do that, you’re going to die!”_

_“Then maybe you’ll actually have a life!”_

_“Don’t start that again, O. You know I didn’t mean it!”_

_“How could I possibly know that? You don’t have a life outside of school and worrying about me. Your life ended the day I was born!”_

_“I said that when you nearly died. I can’t lose you! You have no idea what that would do to me.”_

_Octavia calmed and he didn’t think that would happen after finding out. “You’d get to have a life,” she said calmly before stepping around him and walking out of her own bedroom._

_Bellamy stood there in shock for a few minutes. She actually believed that he meant  what he said all those years ago, his life ended the day she was born. It wasn’t true, he didn’t have a purpose until she was born and then she was his responsibility and he still felt that aching through his entire body everyday and he was failing her._

_He headed downstairs when he stopped halfway down hearing an all too familiar sultry voice speaking and from what he knew it was only O and him in the house._

_“It doesn’t affect you, Octavia. It numbs you, from what, I can’t even imagine but the people around you, the people who love you... it causes them so much pain to see you like that. To see you drugged out like that. You didn’t see Bellamy at the hospital last year. You didn’t see that he didn’t sleep for a week, that he couldn’t eat or even sit down while you were unconscious. It got to the point where Jackson stuck an IV in him just to keep his vitals up. You are the world to him and he said some shitty things to you that he didn’t mean but so do you. You are far worse to him than he is to you and you might not think that’s fair for me to say because you think I’m bias for him, but he never got to be just a brother to you. His was your dad. That wasn’t fair to either of you; he grew up too fast and you were being raised by another child who shouldn’t have known better himself but he did. He was a man at the age of seven, he’s the best man that I know and it’s because he had so much more practice and responsibilities._

_“Your life is bigger than yourself, Octavia. It’s the people around you, your family, your friends, at least the ones you haven’t pushed away yet. If you selfishly choose to kill yourself, you’re going to put us through the biggest world of pain we could ever experience. Your choices impact everyone in your life, think about that the next time you meet up with Wallace,” Clarke shot at Octavia and walked out of the kitchen and rounded the corner to the stairs, freezing at the sight of Bellamy standing there._

_She wiped away a wayward tear, giving him a weak smile._

_“Thank you,” he whispered a moment later at the bottom of the stairs with his arms wrapped tightly around her waist._

* * *

“There’s thirty on the table for take out!” she called and he knew she barely heard the door open. He rolled his eyes at her leaving her door unlocked out of habit (a bad one) and kicked his shoes off under the bench before heading deeper into the apartment.

Her living room was riddled with takeout containers which was a good sign of her actually eating. He cleaned up some of it, dropping what he could collect into the garbage in the kitchen before heading back to her art room where she was painting on one easel and the other had a drying landscape that he froze at the sight of.

“Who’s that for?”

“Oh,” she jumped slightly. “Miller called two days ago and said you need some inspiration. Landscapes and cityscapes. Didn’t say much about the story you’re working on though.”

Not exactly a lie and yeah, Miller usually called her for when he’s stuck on some visualization but this was a dystopian story he’s ghostwriting, not something with this kind of landscape. If the world’s going to end it’s going to be in fire and there wouldn’t be any greenery. But that’s besides the point, Miller’s helping him get her pieces for the gallery exhibit. She’s best at painting landscapes and charcoal portraits.

“Yeah, the deadline’s a week after your birthday so I was hoping you’d have them done by your birthday,” he lied. His deadline is January and he’s already a majority of the way done with the first draft.

“Why do you do this? Why don’t you write a book to put your name on?”

“Because I like being other people while I write. I stumbled into this, Clarke, it’s not exactly my life’s dream profession.”

“So then why are you doing it?”

Bellamy shrugged, “It’s really good money and the royalties I’m getting are ridiculous. I could probably do nothing for the next five years and live comfortably or ten years if I lived how O and I did after Mom died.”

“That’s not funny. I worried like hell about you and you wouldn’t let me help with anything.” She turned around and smiled softly at him and there was a hint of something he couldn’t quote decipher, “You’re so proud.”

“The way you say it makes it sound like a good thing but that statement always seems condescending.”

“Because it usually is but I think it’s endearing.”

“And your opinion is the one I care about,” he smiled. “Anyway, you’re cool with painting me new inspiration?”

“Always. So… done before my birthday is your request?”

“Yeah, is that too much to ask?”

“Not if you’re willing to sit here and write while I paint for you.”

“But I work so much better at my place and before you even ask, you are not painting there.”

“We never spend time at your apartment.”

“That’s because yours is much nicer. What’s this and who’s it for?” he asked finally looking at the one she was looking at.

“You. I have to paint ten in six weeks, that’s not an easy feat. I may have to work through the night to finish them all.”

“Clarke…”

“You should stay and supervise me so I don’t. At least for the first few weeks.”

Before he could respond, the doorbell rang and he headed out letting her focus on her painting. He picked up the thirty dollars and handed it to the delivery guy at the door and handed it over in exchange for their food and headed back to her art room and sat at the little table she sketched at and started unpacking, instantly recognizing the aroma.

“Did you order Thai knowing I’d show up?”

Clarke chuckled, “Who me? No.”

“Miller ratted me out,” he grimaced before taking a bite of his gai ma muang.

“I don’t know how you eat that.”

“I don’t claim to be allergic to cashews. Come eat, I’ll write here but I do need to write at home.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and opened her tom yum soup and took a bite. “Happy?”

“When you finish it I will be.”

“You’re such a mother hen,” she chuckled taking another bite and turned back to her painting and Bellamy pulled out his Surface and began writing the twenty seventh chapter where Chloé finally realized she was the problem and the cure all in one.

* * *

Bellamy walked into the apartment to find Miller and Jackson making out on the couch and it was innocent but if Bellamy didn’t walk in then it would have been a worse show in fifteen minutes. He didn’t need to see either of them from the waist down.

“You’re an ass but thank you and now please take that all to your bedroom,” Bellamy said walking past them to grab a beer from the fridge, grimacing at the six pack of Bud hanging out on the counter. How the hell can Miller drink Bud let alone warm Bud is troubling.

“Just doing my job. You’re better with her paintings than in nature so I called and killed two birds with one stone. Do you know how much I love not having to call you and complain about you not handing your chapters in? I can just demand to see them when I get home,” Miller called from the living room.

“Jackson, before he gets to that will you distract him in his room please!”

“Five steps ahead of you,” Jackson said and Bellamy saw him dragging Miller past the door and down the hall before he heard the low click of the door closing behind them.

Bellamy shrugged, “I can’t believe that worked.”

Miller popped his head into the room, “Could you have Chloé not look like Clarke please. They want her to be brunette.”

“You couldn’t have told me that when I started writing this? She’s a fully complex blonde character now!” he exclaimed and Miller disappeared back down the hall to his room.

Chloé doesn’t look like Clarke… he thought before going back to his Surface and read through the story, blonde, full figure curves, blue eyes, a mole above her lip. Fuck, it’s Clarke, how didn’t he notice that?

He went through and made small physical characteristics of Chloé, refusing to change her personality because it would change the entire story and if that’s what they wanted then they can get a new writer.

>>> 

“You’re an idiot,” Octavia said a month later, two weeks before Clarke’s birthday and she have three more paintings to finish in time. He had four of the paintings leaning against his wall by the door, Lincoln said he’d grab them next week and Clarke said they should be done two days before her birthday.

“I love you too, O. Why this time?”

“You’re working your ass off to pay for this exhibit for Clarke. You haven’t seen any of your friends who are hiding this from her too. Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“What exactly am I doing to myself? Working? Supporting my friend? What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, if you actually admitted that you’re doing this as a huge grand gesture for Clarke, and finally tell her you’re in love with her but that’s not the plan is it?”

“I’m not…” Bellamy thought about it, about every moment with Clarke, waking up to the smell of her bubblegum shampoo on the couch long after a documentary was over, making sure she received the gift Jake had planned for her birthday when he passed a week before, realizing that she’s minimized her because Jake always overplayed it. _Fuck…_ “I can’t have this happen on her birthday, I’m such an idiot.”

“What are you talking about? It’s a grand gesture, right?”

“Jake died a week before her birthday, he always made it a big deal and the last seven years it’s been passed over like just another day because I promised her that day that I would. How could I forget that? How could I do this to her?”

“Because it’s been seven years and he’s always approved of you and even when you and Clarke weren’t talking, you were always together. You two have been orbiting around each other since you met and… Bell, she saved me.”

“I know that’s partly why I…” he sighed, he’s not going to admit it to his sister first, not when he’s just realized it himself. How hadn’t he realized before? Hell, even Gina knew. “Fuck, Gina knew.”

“Seriously?” Octavia grimaced. “Actually, that kinda makes sense.”

“Fuck that was years ago. How… how long have you known?”

“Since she got me sober.”

“Fuck, everyone knew before me.”

“I mean, we all thought you knew and hoped this exhibit was your big plan of telling her but you were just doing it to be nice. Which is great and everything if you were her boyfriend.”

“I’m not,” he grimaced wishing the position didn’t sound so appealing. _Clarke Griffin’s boyfriend._

* * *

“You haven’t been around lately,” he heard a sweet familiar voice behind him while he stocked the bar.

He spun around and Clarke was leaning on the bar, her cleavage a little too much for him now that he knows how he feels. “What are you doing here?”

Clarke’s brow quirked, “Me? I’m not the writer with a deadline in two weeks. What are you doing here?”

“Working, I need the cash.”

“And the advancement won’t cover whatever you’re working your ass off here for?”

“You know I pay my rent six months in advance and what I have left over isn’t covering what I need right now. I’m sorry I haven’t been around.”

She smiled sweetly like she knew he’d rather be with her than a sticky, sweaty bar when he’s not writing. “I know. You know you could just ask me for help with whatever it is. I have that untouched trust fund itching to be spent.”

“I’m not going to ask you to _loan_ me money for this car part I need. Even with Raven doing the work it’s still almost two grand. It’s ridiculous and I’m not asking you.”

“Fine, I’m not going to push it because I _don’t_ want to fight today, I can’t figure this painting out for you, there’s something missing and I can’t put my finger on it.”

“You’re working on Eden, right?”

“Yeah. The second to last one. How did Miller get an outline? I thought you just wrote what flowed.”

“It’s a dystopian, I knew where I wanted to take it.”

“Is it going to be a stupid trilogy or saga?”

“No, it’s a standalone and Miller knows better than to ask me for a series.”

Clarke chuckled and Bellamy tried his damn near hardest to keep his eyes on her face and not to her boobs that jiggled with her soft laughter. “So am I getting a drink or what?”

Bellamy chuckled this time, “What would you like, Princess?”

“What’s the Bellamy Blake special cocktail?”

“You’re not ready for that. What about a cosmo?”

Clarke grimaced, looking at the counter in disappointment, "Sounds great."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 should be up tonight or tomorrow, depending on how my afternoon goes...


	2. Clarke - The What

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last night's episode... OMFG I'm an Octavia fan again! I've always hated Jaha but I cried over his death because they mentioned Wells for the first time in 4 seasons (honestly probably 3 but still).

Staring at the painting, she didn’t know what was missing, she read what Miller gave her again for the hundredth time and she still didn’t know what could possibly be missing. She has a week before this one and the last one are due and she’s lost. She tried asking Bellamy what he wanted and he just shrugged, giving her creative control. He always did, but he also always had an opinion on what it should have in it. It’s Eden, it’s supposed to be lush and green and there needs to be water, but what makes it Eden, what’s outside of it besides the desert she painted four times.

_“What about the character?” she asked halfway through her first cosmo still disappointed he didn’t make her his signature drink, whatever it may be._

_“Do you want the character?” he asked, passing a beer to the guy three stools down from her and she was surprised they could hold a conversation since they officially opened halfway through him making her drink with flair she’s never seen before, the people were loud and the music was louder._

_“This is for you.”_

_“But have I ever really cared before. I have the characters in my head and looking at the painting helps me visualize what they do in the space you created.”_

_“What about a cabin?”_

_“A cabin could work, but wouldn’t it be small in the back by the lake?”_

_Clarke sighed, downing the rest of her drink and Niylah came up next to her and started talking her up. Clarke tried getting Bellamy to come back, rescue her, talk to her about this damn Eden painting, but his mood soured as he make a rum and coke for some guy at the other end of the bar._

Looking at the painting again, the cabin was an idiotic idea and she should just get started on the last piece and get a new perspective of Eden after painting the waterfall, whatever Bellamy’s writing is going to be beautiful even though he refuses to let anyone know who he’s ghost writing for.

* * *

“What are you doing for your birthday?” Raven asked after Clarke dropped off the last painting at Bellamy’s.

“Nothing, it’s just a normal day like any other.”

Raven grimaced, “Right, so you and Bellamy are going to order take out and watch a documentary on the Italian Renaissance’s impact on 17th century French art culture and you’re going to fall asleep on his shoulder and he carries you to bed and before he leaves for the night, places a functional present haphazardly around your apartment for you to find and you act like you’ve always had it?”

Clarke bit her lip, “Probably.”

Raven rolled her eyes, “When are you going to tell him?”

“There’s nothing to tell, okay? Bell and I aren’t like that.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Rae, seriously, it’s getting old.”

“You can’t tell me you’re not in love with him.”

Clarke licked her lips, “It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t…”

“Have you tried?”

“Remember last year when I wouldn’t talk to him? I… I was a little drunk so he wanted me to stay so I wouldn’t die or kill anyone else so I stayed and I put on his jersey. Just his jersey and I walked back out to the living room to finish the movie we were watching hoping that maybe seeing his name plastered across my shoulders would do the trick, that seeing my nipples through the white fabric would entice him. We just went to bed like it was any other night.”

“You were drunk, he wouldn’t do that.”

“I wasn’t that drunk and I was all over him before the wine. He doesn’t like me like that, it’s fine. I’m getting over it.”

“Right. I probably won’t see you tomorrow, right?”

“Birthday, nope.”

“Right, happy birthday. I love you.”

“I love you too Rae, thanks.”

* * *

 **Bellamy:** Be ready at 6:30

 **Clarke:** For what? I thought we were ordering pizza.

 **Bellamy:** Are you telling me you’re not in the mood for Murphy’s carbonara?

 **Clarke:** I was looking forward to a night in sweats.

 **Bellamy:** No, we’re going out for your carbonara and my calamari.

That black dress with the lace, a pair of heels (O has taught me so much) I’ll wear a suit.

Clarke grimaced at that, he looks really hot in a suit. He’ll probably take the jacket off at some point during dinner and roll up his sleeves, loosen his tie some, comb his hair back into a bigger mess than it was before and she couldn’t handle that. She couldn’t handle him in a suit.

* * *

**_7 Years Ago:_ **

_“Hey,” Bellamy smiled weakly, sitting at the foot of her bed when she woke up._

_“Hi. What are you doing here?”_

_“I was thinking we could go to the shore today.”_

_Clarke sat up and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m not in the mood to go to the beach.”_

_“That’s exactly why we should go,” he wrapped his arm around her shoulder._

_“Bell, I know you mean well, but I just can’t. Not today.”_

_“He would want you to have fun today, you’re eighteen now. He would want you to celebrate.”_

_“Celebrate a life without him? I can’t do that, Bellamy. I don’t know what to do without him here. We… ten times a day I think of something to tell him and I can’t. He’s never going to know who I marry or what I become, he’s not going to know my children.”_

_“You think I didn’t feel that way when my mom passed? I did, I just had to pull myself together and raise Octavia, I’m not doing a great job with it, but I’m trying. She wouldn’t want me to put my life on hold either, you told me that. You helped me find more scholarships and grants to keep me in school while I raise O._ You _did that for me when you didn’t have to. You could have let me drop out and be a bartender my whole life, but you have faith in me. Well, Clarke, it’s my turn. You deserve to be happy, you deserve to celebrate turning eighteen. We can do whatever you want to do but we’re not going to mope around. You’re legal, go buy cigarettes or something.”_

_“I don’t smoke.”_

_“Have you tried it?”_

_“No, I don’t want to. It’s horrible for your health.”_

_“Good, I hated it, I don’t know what I’d do if you got hooked. Come on, the beach is calling your name.”_

_“It’s October, it’s freezing.”_

_“It’s Virginia, and seventy-eight, it’s going to be gorgeous, come on.”_

_“I don’t want to be around people today.”_

_“You and me, that’s it.”_

_“Why aren’t you in class?”_

_“Because you need me. I’m always going to be here for you when you need me and today is a day where you don’t need to ask me to be here because I know you, I know you’d just lay in bed all day if I don’t force you out and you need to get out of this house. You can still reminisce about your dad, but now you have a shoulder and someone to listen.”_

_“At the beach?”_

_“Better than this bedroom that’s starting to smell. Come on, shower, that white bikini that had every guy’s head turning all summer—ladies too. Get your ass up before I go in with you and do I myself,” he smirked, his fingers on her waist avidly tickling her until she ran into her bathroom to shower and get ready._

* * *

Answering her phone with a grimace, she put the curling iron down, “Hi, Mom.”

“Happy birthday sweetie, how are you?” Abby said happily. You don’t move on from your husband’s sudden death within a year, let alone with his best friend unless something was going on before he died. Clarke hated this time of year because of it, the holidays coming up, she hated seeing them so happy so quickly after her Jake’s death.

“As good as I can be.”

“Clarke, it’s been seven years, I’m allowed to move on.”

“Yeah, not to his best friend.”

“Clarke…”

“Mom, I have plans that I have to get ready for.”

“Are you going to the beach with Bellamy?”

“No, we did that when Dad died, this isn’t… I don’t know what this is, we don’t acknowledge birthdays. I think something’s going on with him, he’s moving or found a girlfriend or something, it doesn’t matter.”

 _Of course it matters, you just can’t care about it as much as you do because he doesn’t love you back,_ her brain screamed at her.

“Okay, will I see you this weekend?”

“If you go to the graveyard when I do.”

“I get that you’re still upset over Marcus but it isn’t going to change.”

“No, I like Marcus, he’s a good man, I don’t like the timeline. I really have to go, Mom my hair is half done and Bellamy’s going to be here in ten minutes.”

“All right, I love you Clarke.”

“I love you too, Mom,” she grimaced and hung up and texted Bellamy.

 **Clarke:** Mom called, I’m in a bad mood, do we really have to go? Murphy delivers.

 **Bellamy:** Yes, we’re going. You’re not allowed to stay in on your birthday this year.

 **Clarke:** You said that 4 years ago too.

 **Bellamy:** and I was right, you had a blast. I’m going to be there in 5, meaning I’m driving and being a bad influence. Stop texting me.

 **Clarke:** but you distract me from my mother.

 **Bellamy:** you’re welcome. 5 minutes.

Clarke finished her hair in record time and it looked damn good too, yanking her ankle boots on over her black lace stockings that went with the lace bodice of her black dress that Bellamy demanded she wore, when he walked in.

Like he said, he was wearing a suit looking way too attractive, his inky curls still damp from his shower, his black tie was already loosened and she knew he was aching to take the jacket off. He isn’t just hot, he’s an actual furnace.

“Hey,” he smiled, as she stood, her shoes on now. “You look amazing.”

Clarke smiled weakly, “I don’t feel amazing, I feel like crawling back into bed and hiding.”

“You really can’t be doing that, come on, we’re getting carbs, when have you said no to carbs?”

“Never. They’re depressants, you know.”

“Clarke, if you frown even once tonight, I’m going to tickle you. You don’t want that, do you?”

Clarke smirked, “You really know how to sweet talk me, Bellamy Blake.”

“Anything for the birthday princess.”

“Oh, jeez, don’t bring that back up, I was twelve.”

* * *

“What are we doing here?” Clarke asked after their wine was brought to the table.

“What I can’t take my favorite twenty five year old out to dinner?”

“Bellamy…”

“It’s your birthday and I hate hiding your present around your apartment. I care about you and this isn’t healthy.”

“This is the other extreme that I don’t want.”

“There’s a middle ground that we can find but we can’t just ignore your birthday anymore. Jake would want you to celebrate with everyone who cares about you.”

Clarke shook her head, “I just want to go home.”

“We’re not going home, okay? We’re going to eat and get some ice cream and head over to Ton DC.”

“Ton DC? What’s going on there?”

“Some exhibit I thought you might like. You find inspiration from other people, right?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

* * *

“How’s the book going?” she asked taking a lick of her raspberry sorbet, nudging Bellamy with her other arm as he bit into his peanut butter and coffee cone.

“Good, I have five chapters left. Finishing with the Eden painting and moving on to the ocean city.”

“You really won’t let me read it?”

“Nope. If you accidentally stumble upon it years from now and read it you may or may not recognize the sceneries but you’re not going to read it because I gave it to you.”

“Oh, come on, I’m you’re biggest supporter!”

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “You are.” He stopped walking and Clarke grimaced turning to him. “Before we get to TonDC I have to give you something.”

She sighed, “Bellamy…”

He passed her his ice cream before he reached into the pocket of his jacket that he carried in his hand and pulled out a long velvet box. “I suck at wrapping sorry for the lack of effort.”

Clarke looked at him expectantly before he realized what she was getting at. “Shit. Are you cold? I could…”

“That works,” she smiled, turning her back to him some so he could drape his jacket over her shoulders and took his ice cream back before handing her the box.

“Can I wait until tomorrow? I kinda liked the scavenger hunt over the years.”

“There’s something for you to find at your apartment too. It’s our tradition.”

She held her ice cream out for him to hold and eyed him before opening the box, she saw a thin chain under a note with her name in her father’s handwriting.

“Bellamy?”

What is she supposed to take from this? A letter from her father? How did he have it let alone keep it all these years.

“I should have waited, right? I’m not good at this.”

“My dad…”

“Your mom gave it to me to give to you because he asked her to give it to you when you were twenty five and she knows I see you on your birthday every year so she gave it to me two days ago.”

“She was in town?”

“I think she has a conference.”

Clarke nodded. “I don’t want to read it. What if it’s the last I’ll hear from him?”

“You will always have this, Clarke. You’re not going to lose him, he’s always going to be your father.”

Clarke nodded, blinking back tears. “I’ll… later. I don’t want to cry right now,” she smiled placing the letter in the pocket of his jacket before inspecting the necklace. A beautiful metal heart with an opal tucked in the bottom corner. “Bellamy, you shouldn’t… your car’s fine. This is too much, Bellamy, I can’t accept this.”

“It’s from him. I’m just the messenger.”

“Help me put it on?”

Bellamy scoffed. “Are we done with these ice creams? They were a bad idea.”

“Yeah, get rid of them,” she huffed. _Her father got her a birthday present before he died._

He threw the ice creams out and stepped behind Clarke who handed him each end of the necklace before pulling her hair up.

“I can’t believe he did this,” she sniffled.

“He loves you, he’s always going to be with you.”

The pendant landed softly against her collarbone and Bellamy’s hands were on her shoulders. She felt his hair tickle the back of her hand that was holding her hair up before feeling the soft press of his lips against her neck.

“I’m always here for you too,” he whispered and his hands were gone. He cleared his throat, “We should go.”

Clarke dropped her hair and looked at him now next to her. “Okay…” she blinked, completely bewildered.

They were down the street from TonDC when Clarke stopped, Bellamy’s hand slipping from hers and she wondered when that even happened.

“Did he plan something? Did he make you promise to do something because he knew my birthday would be ruined?”

“No, it was just the necklace and the letter, but you’re right, I wasn’t working at the Dropship for car parts.”

“What did you do?”

“Come on, were going to be late.”

“Bellamy, what did you do?”

“We really shouldn’t be late,” he grabbed her hand and tried tugging her arm.

“Bellamy, stop.” She pulled her arm back, “What did you do?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Always.”

“Then lets go to TonDC.”

Clarke rolled her eyes, “Fine.”

Two minutes later they walked into TonDC and Clarke sighed, “Bellamy, this is incredible.” She walked over to the first painting and sighed, she’s never seen a Wallace in person but he really is an incredible artist and really captured the essence of the person he painted. She felt like she knew this girl.

She moved onto the next just completely in awe of everything she’s seeing and then she grimaced, she knew this piece, she… she painted this piece six weeks ago.

She spun around and found Bellamy looking nervous. “You put your paintings in the gallery?”

He shook his head. “I put your paintings in a gallery because you deserve the recognition, you deserve the world.”

“I—I don’t want the world. I… Bellamy, you know that so why—?”

He’s been there through everything. Finn. Lexa. Her dad. The first time she failed a test. The time she thought she was pregnant with Finn’s baby after finding out about Raven. When she said she was going to sell her art on Etsy, he had faith in her. He believed in her. He trusted her. He… could he love her?

“Do you love me?”

Bellamy smiled. “Yeah. I’m in love with you.”

Clarke released the breath she didn’t know she was holding and practically jumped into his arms, her lips miraculously crashing against his perfectly or rather slightly off kilter and having to slide her lips to his mouth more prominently made the sensation even better. Better that her mind screaming _This is Bellamy! I’m kissing Bellamy!_

“I didn’t want any of this.”

“You kissed me,” he grimaced.

“No, the gallery, the recognition. I don’t want it.”

“You can’t go through life anonymous. You deserve the world and—“

“If I’m not going to be anonymous anymore then you can’t be either. There needs to be novels that say Bellamy Blake on them.”

“We can discuss that later. This is what your dad wanted for you. I didn’t know that, I got the letter two days ago and this has been in the works for six weeks.”

“You read it?”

“Abby told me to. I didn’t think she liked me.”

“My dad loved you.”

“I couldn’t tell,” he smirked, his eyes darting back to her lips as his hands tightened on her waist.

Clarke leaned back up and kissed him, reveling in his taste of calamari and Pinot Grigio and peanut butter and coffee ice cream which should have been disgusting but was so _Bellamy_ it was intoxicating.

“Okay, you two, can we wish the birthday girl a happy birthday?” Raven said and they pulled away, Clarke still leaning into Bellamy with his hand on her waist.

Raven was standing between Octavia and Abby, all with their own version of a smirk on their faces like they saw it coming for years and it wasn’t like they were wrong. They’re here, they’re… something.

“Go, I’ll find you later,” Bellamy whispered in her ear before pressing a kiss to her hair.

Clarke smiled at him, pressing a chaste kiss on his lips before going to her mother and friend’s, finding out their whole friends group was around the corner.

She talked to her friends, she talked to strangers that wanted to buy her work and after an hour she was overwhelmed and headed outside for some fresh air, pulling the letter out of Bellamy’s suit jacket pocket. She just stared at it.

“You know, I forgot how funny he was,” she heard Bellamy say further down the brick wall. “Incredibly morbid too, but I think it was the circumstances.”

“I don’t think I can read it.”

“That’s okay. Take your time.”

“Did he know? About us, did he know?”

“I don’t think he knew, but I think he hoped. The man liked me.”

“He saw you for who you could be, the man you are now, not the rebel you conned the high school’s student body to think you were.”

Bellamy laughed. “God, I was trouble, how did they let me near you back then?”

“Because you’ve always been good to me. I haven’t told you that I love you yet, have I?”

“No, but I already know.”

“Do you want to hear it?” she smiled, wrapping her arms around his waist. They could have been doing this for years.

“Whenever you want to say it, princess.”

“I’m in love with you, Bellamy. I have been for most of my life.”

Bellamy smiled, “I will never get tired of hearing that.”

“I’ll never get tired of saying it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there's going to be a third part. Bear with me, I wrote it last night and it deleted on me and I can't find it so hopefully tomorrow but will probably be here on Friday. I'm so excited.


	3. The Who, The How, The When

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I promised Thursday or Friday morning at the latest but technically it's still Saturday for another 15 minutes so technically i'm only a day late, 36 hours at the most... Life got in the way and I'm sorry <3  
> There are a bunch of time jumps and I'm not sorry, there's also a few POV changes that become clear when they occur so they're not labeled. I'm being lazy and trying to get this in under the wire here!!!

_My dearest Clarke,_

She blinked back tears, it wasn’t like she forgot about the letter, she knew she had it, knew where it was but never felt ready. She still doesn’t feel ready.

“You okay?” Bellamy asked, sitting next to her looking out over the balcony.

“I haven’t read it yet.”

“I know. You will when you’re ready.”

“I want to be ready.”

“You can’t force yourself to be ready,” he said softly, taking her hand in his.

“You read it, what did he write?”

“I’m not telling you that. He’s funny and morbid and it feels like Jake is sitting with you when you read it.”

“I don’t mean to make this about me, I just don’t know when I’m going to be ready.”

“The book is about you. Tonight is all about you.”

“What?”

“The book your gallery paintings were for, my name’s on the cover and it’s about a girl like you, everything’s a little more heightened because it’s a book but Chloé is you.”

“That’s amazing, Bellamy! I’m a horrible girlfriend!”

“No, you’re perfect. I know what that letter means to you, I’m not going to lessen it.”

Clarke grimaced, dropping her head to his shoulder, “You couldn’t.”

“Giving you a synopsis of that letter cheapens it and makes it less than it should be. This is big, Clarke, take however long you need.”

“You know, the last time you wore this suit was my birthday.”

“Yeah and it’s fucking hot now, it’s here whenever you want to put the letter back.”

“You should go back in Mr. Published Writer.”

“I’ll go in with you.”

“I’ll be there in a minute. Tonight’s about you.”

“Okay. I love you,” he smiled pressing a kiss to her temple.

Nine months and she’s still not used to hearing him say those words.

“I love you too. Five minutes, I promise.”

“I’m holding you to it. I’ll come back out here and drag you back inside,” he joked before going back in, closing the door of the balcony behind him.

Clarke sighed, unfolding the letter again.

_My dearest Clarke,_

_I’m not going to pretend that this isn’t weird, it’s the strangest thing in the world, writing you a letter for seven years from now when presently you just left my hospital room. You were going on and on about finals and graduation and how Bellamy’s girlfriend is too nice. Too nice, I really didn’t think that was a problem but it’s you and Bellamy, I can’t interfere with that, no one can._

_I bet you’re wondering why I chose your twenty-fifth birthday, huh? I’m supposed to be making it to your eighteenth, even Christmas. And then I was thinking your twenty-first but figured you’d be too drunk to read a letter from your father so a quarter century it is. You should also be settled down in a job with your own apartment that is still close to Bellamy’s without it being creepy best friend obsessed status or maybe you figured it all out by now and you’re living together._

_No pressure on a life partner, I promise, though any father would be lucky to have Bellamy Blake as a son-in-law, if that’s what their daughter wanted._

_I only have a few minutes to get this out so I’m going to be quick with writing this because the drugs are starting t_ o _kick in and I think I act too much like Jasper on them._

_Love is a multitude of emotions, it’s not singular and you can’t just love one person. I love you and I love your mother and I love Marcus Kane and I love Bellamy Blake and countless other people in my life, and it’s not all equal. It’s layered and unencumbered (you’re twenty-five your vocab should expand further than unencumbered and tumultuous). It’s like a wave, with everyone, you could go to jail and I’d be furious with you and ground you but I’d still love you, that doesn’t change, just the amount. Saying that I love Bellamy and Marcus proves my next point of love not being romanticized like it is in those horrid rom-coms that are currently popular. Marcus is my best friend and has been since college and I love him in the sense that we have too much dirt on each other and it’s better to be friends with someone who has that much on you than risk having them expose your indiscretions to the world. Lastly, Bellamy, he’s my daughter’s best friend, he’s the guy that has always taken care of my little girl when I couldn’t and whether he knows it or not, he’s the guy that’s in love with her too. Hmm, should I let you in on the parenting secret or should I let you figure that out yourself?_

_I’m feeling the drugs already._

The door opened and Octavia stepped out onto the balcony. “Bellamy asked me to come get you, they’re introducing him in a minute.”

Clarke sighed, wiping away some wayward tears that found their way down her cheeks and folded the letter back up, placing it in Bellamy’s coat pocket again, carrying it on her arm due to the late spring heat.

“You okay?” O grimaced worried.

“Yeah. Yeah, just my dad. He knew about Bell and I back in high school.”

“You two were obvious to everyone but each other. We should get in there, he’s going to talk about his muse.”

“You know that his name was going to be on the cover?”

“Yeah. He wanted to surprise you because he fought vehemently for it.”

“Vehemently?”

“That’s what happens when you’re raised by him, you get this gigantic vocabulary that you can never use and when you do, people look at you weird.”

“That’s because you’ve never used big words before. We were stuck on ‘sincerely’ in fourth grade because you refused to acknowledge the second e, claiming you’ll never write a letter so there would be no use for it in your life.”

“I remember. Can we get in there?”

Clarke nodded and followed O back to the party where some guy was in the middle of introducing Bellamy.

“… for a few years now and we’re very proud to announce that he has his name on the cover of this book. Bellamy Blake.”  
The room erupted in applause as Bellamy stepped over to the podium shaking the man’s hand.

“Thank you, Stephen. Many of you might know that I prefer being in the background, remaining hidden and letting people shine but there was a man I knew when I was a teenager that barely knew me and about six months ago, I learned that he had more faith in me than I probably knew existed. His daughter was my best friend, now my girlfriend and hopefully my fiancé.”

 _Did he just propose?_ Clarke froze.

“This book is essentially her, she’s the strongest, most hardheaded person that I know that somehow balances it all out by being so incredibly selfless and putting all her friends before herself. I tried writing Chloé as though she was really her, but the situations are different so Chloé is the extreme version of my Clarke because everything in Chloé’s world is heightened with life or death decisions at every turn.

“A major theme in the story is ‘Nevertheless, she persisted’ and while writing this story, I didn’t just witness her persisting, I witnessed her thriving and she’s helped me become a better writer, a better man, a better brother. So Princess, this is for you and wherever our journey takes us,” Bellamy smiled as his eyes landed on Clarke’s for the first time since stepping up to the podium.

Her eyes were wet with tears caused by his view of her and her father’s final words to her. They were a potent concoction that overwhelmed her, if Octavia wasn’t squeezing her hand so tightly, she’d fall to the ground in a puddle of tears or run to Bellamy and say she couldn’t imagine not marrying him while crying about her father knowing everything.

Bellamy walked off the stage and headed straight to her.

“Marry me,” Clarke said when he was in front of her.

“That’s my line,” he smiled.  
Clarke shrugged, “You grazed over it up there in front of three hundred strangers. I’m just making it a reality.”

“God, you’re cute.”

“My only redeeming quality,” she smirked. “You still haven’t answered.”

“Yes, I want to marry you. I want everything with you.”

Clarke smiled, pushing up onto her toes and kissed him. “Good, you just got me, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“I’d never want to, I love you.”

Clarke smiled wrapping her arms around him and Octavia grimaced. “You guys are gross, I’m going to go be happy and gross with my boyfriend.”

Clarke chuckled against Bellamy’s lips. “You really wrote about me?”

“Chloé is you. They wanted her to be brunette when it wasn’t mine but that was the first change I made because she’s you and I want her to look like you too.”

“You wrote a book about me. You spoil me.”

“You spoil me, you’re the rich and famous artist.”

“You’re the soon to be famous novelist.”

“Soon to be.”

Clarke smiled. “Can we go home yet? I want to have newly engaged sex. That’s a thing, right?”

“If it’s not, we can make it a thing. I’m done, let’s sneak out.”

* * *

_I’m feeling the drugs already._

Clarke steeled herself, she hadn’t read past that point, she hadn’t had the letter in her hand since and she thought that maybe after a year it’d be easier but the weight still held. How did Bellamy read this with such ease?

_I just came back to this (it’s only been 12 hours, the drugs did a number) and I was prepared to start from scratch but high Jake is a funny and truthful person. He and I would be friends if I wasn’t dying and he’s only here because of that. Also, I’m not letting you in on the parenting secret because technically there isn’t one, every child is different, what worked on you wouldn’t have worked on Bellamy and dear lord, thank god I didn’t have to raise Octavia (my eyes are hugely wide with fear right now, you’d laugh)._

_As your father and generally decent human being (I hope), I want you to be happy above all else. Whatever that means, whatever journey you take to get there, as long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters. Recognition doesn’t have to be huge, it just has to be given. If you’re doing a little comic or something with your art and there’s a huge marketing campaign that uses it without giving you recognition there should be a problem._

_Oddly specific but I stand my ground._

_You deserve the world. You deserve to know love and  happiness. I see it in your eyes when you look at me, I see how distraught you already are and no matter how many times I prepare you, you will never be prepared to lose me. Promise me something though, I need you to do this for yourself. Promise me that you’re going to LIVE_ , _not just survive, going through the motions of life but thoroughly enjoy it. Go to Paris and Rome and Dubai, take risks, jump off the deep end and dive in to new experiences._

A knock on the door pulled her out of the letter, thinking she’d actually get through it before they started. “Clarke, are you ready?” Raven asked through the door.

“Yeah,” Clarke sighed. “I’m coming.”

“You haven’t seen Bellamy’s suit jacket have you? He seems to have lost it.”

Clarke tucked the letter back into the pocket before smoothing her dress as she stood. “Yeah, it’s here. He must have left it when we switched rooms,” she opened the door and smiled weakly at Raven.

She wasn’t crying while reading the letter, really she wasn’t, she mostly just wished he were physically there to walk her down the aisle, but apparently she messed up something on her face to make Raven look at her like her puppy died.

“I’m fine.”

“Clarke—“

“Just get the jacket to Bellamy so we can get this over with.”

“Don’t sound too exciting to get married.”

“That’s not what I meant. The marriage, the promise I can do but this wedding, Abby’s ideal wedding… this isn’t what I want.”

“So then screw her. This is your wedding, dance yourself down the aisle if you want to.”

“I don’t want to. I’m perfectly happy going down to town hall and having Thelonious marry us.”

Raven smiled, “Your mom tries. Not all of us get that.”

Clarke grimaced, she’s being a bad friend, forgetting where Raven came from, what’s made her so strong and perseverant and amazing. “I’m sorry, Rae.”

She shrugged, “It’s your wedding day, I’m just keeping you in check, making sure you don’t bridezilla out.”

Clarke chuckled, “Let’s go get me married!”

* * *

“Hey, wife,” Bellamy smiled pulling her into him on the dance floor.

“Hi, husband,” Clarke smiled back, swaying to the song they picked.

_When I'm feeling blue_

_And no light is shining through_

_Darling you, yeah you, pull me through_

“You okay? You seemed a little distant earlier.”

“I’m fine, I’m happy. I married my favorite person,” she kissed his jaw.

“Clarke,” he sighed.

“I read more of my dad’s letter and don’t give me that look, you’re wearing your lucky suit.”

“This is my sexy suit, do you not see everyone’s eyes on me?”

_No nothing is wrong with a little tenderness_

Clarke laughed, tucking her face into his neck, he smelled muskier than usual and she loved it. “Mm, I’m completely invisible, just how I like it.”

_I need you, I need you, no, I'm afraid to confess_

“Gotta change that,” he kissed the top of her head before pushing her away, spinning her before having her dip with a flair Clarke never knew he had and everyone around them clapped and whooped.

_When I need a friend_

_Without even knowing you came_

_And you showed me a love without an end_

_Yeah it's true, darling you, yeah, you pull me through_

She stood up straight after a moment and gave him an incredulous look. “You’re too much,” she shook her head with a smile.

“How’s it feel? The letter.”

“Weird, it didn’t feel like him this time, like there were too many drugs, they muddled his mind and he was focusing too much on writing it.”

“What part did you get to?”

“Paris, Dubai… Rome.”

“Jump off the deep end.”

“Yeah.”

“Clarke, I can’t even begin to imagine your relationship with him and I was there the last five years of his life. I can’t speculate on how he knew what you were going to do, why he knew that waiting until your twenty-fifth birthday was the best time to give you this letter, but I know there was a reason and not just happenstance like he claims. He had a plan.”

_Like you always do_

_I'll pull you through_

The song ended and Clarke looked up into Bellamy’s soft, happy, dark eyes. “Thank you, you’re so patient with me.”

“I just know what he meant to you, I can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

* * *

“Bellamy!” Clarke called from the kitchen, leaning over the counter slightly in shock. She knew it would be a weird sensation and she half expected it but it was also gross which didn’t cross her mind when she thought about it.

He ran into the room and froze. “Do you need help getting to the car?”

“No, I can do that on my own. Could you just… bring the letter?”

“Clarke…”

“Please?” she huffed before a wave of agonizing pain surged through her body.

“Yeah, yeah. Are you sure this is the right time?”

“Bellamy, I am giving birth to your children within the next twelve hours and you’re not freaking out about that, but you’re concerned about this being the right time to finish my father’s letter?”

“Because I don’t want you to be in distress and in case you forgot, I was with my mom when O was born. I’m practically a pro.”

“Bellamy, just get me the letter and meet me at the car!” Clarke yelled, starting to walk to the front door.

An hour later in a hospital room, Clarke looked over at Bellamy. “We are never having sex again.”

“You’re going to forget all about this by tomorrow.”

“I doubt that, you called my mom, right?”

“And Octavia and Raven. Knowing our friends they’ve already flooded the waiting room.”

“Okay, good. You have the letter?”

“Clarke, I really don’t think…”

“I want to finish it before I start this new chapter with you, our little family.”

“Look who the romantic is now,” he smirked, pulling the overly folded and worn letter out of the pocket of his jacket pocket handing it over to her in the hospital bed.

“Yeah, shut up your sons are killing me!”

“I still can’t believe this is real.”

Clarke sighed, “You’re telling me. One was enough, I was excited for one but _two?_ That’s overwhelming.”

“We can handle it. You want to read that, I’ll go talk to our friends for a few minutes, give you some time to read.”

“Would you… would you read it to me?”

“Really?”

“I don’t know if I can read right now.”

“Of course,” Bellamy smiled, taking the letter from her. “Where did you leave off again?”

“ _Jump off the deep end._ ”

Bellamy nodded, his eyes searching the paper to find it. “Ready?”

Clarke nodded.

“We don’t have to,” he took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers, maneuvering around her pulse oximeter.

“I want to. Please.”

“Yeah, baby, I got you. Ready?”

Clarke nodded.

“ _I don’t know what’s going to happen to me once I leave this life. I don’t want to know but I will be happy if there’s an afterlife, maybe somewhere where I can look back on moments with you and your mother, watch you and Bellamy together. Maybe even keep up in real time and scream at the screen like watching a horror film where the girl runs upstairs instead of out the front door. God, I’d scream at you and Bellamy like the world were on fire._ ”

Clarke laughed because they were bad two years ago… they were bad the five years leading up to her birthday too, they didn’t know how to express their feelings for each other and Clarke was glad that Bellamy got it together for the both of them. She still clutches the necklace her father got her whenever she was feeling a little too much.

A contraction surged through her and when it was over she spurred Bellamy into continuing the letter.

“ _I know I said I wasn’t going to pressure you on any specific life partner but if you do find yourself leaning towards Bellamy, I wouldn’t disapprove._ ”

“It doesn’t say that!” Clarke laughed while trying to cover the pain of this contraction.

“Here, look,” he smiled, passing the letter over so she could see her father’s small calligraphy, pointing to the line where it’s written.

“Fine, continue please.”

“ _I wouldn’t disapprove. He’s helped you through everything. He was there when you told us you were bisexual and you cried on his shoulder thinking you were the biggest disappointment in the world when you got a C on a midterm just after getting over the flu. Consider the circumstances, we were honestly surprised you didn’t completely fail it. Sometimes I thought that maybe you were afraid to let him know, that you don’t see how he looks at you, how Octavia always left you two alone, talked to me about whatever was on TV, surprising me with her knowledge of antiques (I’m an old man, leave me be). I don’t know what your life is like now, I could be completely wrong and Bellamy could be completely in love with some brunette, trying to prove the point of him not being in love with my very blonde daughter to all of his friends who see through his bullshit._ I took offense at that one,” Bellamy grimaced and Clarke rubbed her thumb over his knuckles. They should probably call the nurse, right? The contractions have been coming quicker.

“But you were, right?”

“I think everyone knew before I did. Your dad knew nine years ago. I’ve always been in love with you.”

“I love you too,” she groaned as another contraction came rolling through, two minutes apart. “I think we should get a nurse.”

“You’re never going to finish this letter,” Bellamy chuckled, placing the letter on the table next to her bed while he stood to call down to the nurse. “Do you want your mom here too?” he asked, coming back to his chair.

“No, you and me and my dad. Please?”

“Clarke, we should really…”

The nurse and a doctor came in and preformed a quick and uncomfortable examination, before saying that they should be parents within the hour at this rate and they’re going to be monitoring her a little more closely before leaving, the nurse said she’d be back in a few minutes.

“Continue reading?”

“Please,” Clarke sighed, letting her head fall back against the too soft pillow.

* * *

“ _But even if I am wrong and Bellamy isn’t in love with you, he’s never going to leave you. He’s devoted to you and Octavia and Miller and Raven. Whether he initially wanted it, you guys became his family and he’s always going to have your backs._ ”

Bellamy looked at Clarke and grimaced. “Baby?”

Clarke groaned and blinked over at him. “Hmm.”

“You okay?”

“I’m just listening, you have an amazing voice, you know that? Deep and gravelly and damn sexy. You should never stop talking.”

“That the epidural talking?”

Clarke shrugged with a half dopey grin. “Labor is exhausting.”

“You haven’t even gotten to the hard part yet.”

She groaned, “Never. Having. Sex. Again.”

“So I’ve heard,” Bellamy smirked. “You okay enough to hear the rest of the letter or maybe after our sons are born?”

“After.”

Bellamy nodded, folding the letter up and put it back in his pocket for safe keeping. Two hours later, Clarke and Bellamy were the proud parents of twin boys, Elliot and Enzo, both in Clarke’s arms as Bellamy finished Jake’s letter.

“ _...he’s always going to have your backs. Families grow and change, it’s what they do. You’ll get married and so will the rest of you and you all should be welcoming of their spouses, children join the family one way or another and the family gets even bigger._

_“I have no famous last words for you and for that I am truly sorry. You’re my daughter, my only legacy and I will always be proud of you, even if you wind up in jail. Maybe I shouldn’t joke about that._

_“Maybe I’m a little high on pain meds._

_“Happy birthday, Clarkey. May the odds be ever in your favor._ _All my love,_ _Dad_

_“P.S. Don’t be too hard on your mother. She’s doing the best she can.”_

“Did he quote the Hunger Games?”

“Is that what that was? I didn’t know what it was and I didn’t want to ask.”

“You can always ask though it feels weird having him say it,” Clarke whispered, trying not to wake the boys. “I know I haven’t talked about it, but I remember that day he talked about in the beginning.”

Bellamy’s eyes darted back down to the letter, rereading the beginning; _...you just left my hospital room. You were going on and on about finals and graduation and how Bellamy’s girlfriend is too nice. “Too nice,” I really didn’t think that was a problem but it’s you and Bellamy, I can’t interfere with that, no one can._

“I was jealous.”

“What?”

“Of Gina, I was jealous.”

“She was jealous of you too. I think it’s why we broke up. She knew.”

“I don’t… What do I say to that?”

Bellamy shrugged, “I don’t know. You complained that she was too nice. There was nothing inherently wrong with her, she just wasn’t you.”

“Aww Mr. Romantic,” Clarke laughed. “You’re right, she was perfect for you, she made you smile, you were carefree around her.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you. I’ve always loved you. And you make me laugh, you challenge me, frustrate me and excite me in ways she never could and that was the difference. I want spontaneity with you, not planned to the second.”

“Oh, the twins were planned. I didn’t want to go through this more times than I needed,” Clarke chuckled. They both knew the second embryo was a shock to them both.

“I want a daughter.”

“I will go through this two more times. If the next one is twins you’re S.O.L on a third try.”

“Challenge accepted, I’m going for triplets next time.”

“Dear Lord, I’m screwed," Clarke deadpanned, though she wouldn't mind raising a whole baseball team.

Thirty nine months later Clarke gave birth to another set of twins, a boy and girl that time, Bellamy wanted to be punny and name them Eros & Psyche but Clarke said no, agreeing to Atlas and Asia, knowing that they’re part of Greek mythology and still liking the names.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M NOT CRYING, YOU ARE!  
> Wedding dance song I vaguely added: Pull You Through by Maggie Rose  
> Oh, hey, look, me speculating on what happens during childbirth. (I'm rolling my eyes at myself)  
> Comments, kudos, concerns? You know where to find me... it's just the comments down below. Also, if you have a prompt, throw it at me in the comments :)

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are lovely


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